


Magnetic

by diewolves



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alcohol, F/F, more tags will be added as chapters are added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-04
Updated: 2017-10-05
Packaged: 2018-10-14 19:44:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10543284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/diewolves/pseuds/diewolves
Summary: Pansy says sorry and chaos ensues for everyone.





	1. shape of you

**Author's Note:**

> A big thanks to Ed Sheeran for writing really gay songs that are all definitely about Ginsy. Also a big thanks to my idiot self for writing a one shot and then deciding to make it a full fanfiction instead when I have two other unfinished ones.

The box swayed around her, a small engraving of a house elf in the button panel calling out floor numbers. Everything smelled musty and seemed on the verge of collapse. Ginny was almost certain that the ministry hadn’t updated this elevator since her dad had started here. The elevator came to a shuddering, creaking stop, and yelled out a ding. The doors slowly ground open, revealing the entrance to the auror’s room. Ginny walked up to the empty secretary’s desk, and rang the bell to call for Mrs. Sanders. Ginny knew the witch well; she had worked as a secretary for the auror’s office for decades. She had briefly gone on the run during Voldemort’s reign, but as soon as the ministry was set back up, she had been there, ready to serve. Since Ron started work as an auror, Ginny had seen Mrs. Sanders almost every day.  
The door behind the desk swung open with a loud bang, revealing someone who was quite decidedly not Mrs. Sanders.  
“Pansy? Parkinson?”  
Pansy had always been hot, but now she looked better than ever. Her jet black hair was tied into a tight bun, and her makeup was styled to accentuate her mother’s Korean descent. She wore a white blouse, unbuttoned almost halfway down her chest, and a black blazer and pencil skirt. Golden reading glasses lay on the tip of her nose, and her lips were carved into a sharp red heart. Not that it mattered. Pansy had also always been a bitch who tortured Ginny in the name of a genocidal fascist.  
“Ms. Weasley,” Pansy said, her red lips curling as she spoke, “I assume you’re here to see Mr. Potter? The boyfriend who lived?”  
Ginny swallowed her surprise at seeing Pansy. “Harry and I haven’t dated since I graduated Hogwarts. I’m here to see my brother. Where’s Mrs. Sanders?”  
“She retired. I’m the secretary now.”  
“Retired?”  
Pansy rolled her eyes. “Retired. Having left one’s job and ceased to work. She’s moving to Wales to live with her son.”  
“Oh. I didn’t know she was leaving this soon.” Ginny folded her arms, then decided that looked stupid and unfolded them.  
“She moved the date forward. Do you want to go in, or chit chat about some old lady?” Pansy tilted her head, looking Ginny up and down as if checking for defects.  
“Um, I’ll go in. I just need the pass.”  
Pansy sat down in Mrs. Sander’s seat and started going through the drawers. Eventually she pulled out a lanyard with a white square on it, which she tapped, making Ginny’s name appear.  
“Here you go.” Pansy held the lanyard out, and Ginny took it slowly, expecting some kind of jab.  
-  
Ginny took the lanyard from her, still holding suspicion in her eyes. Pansy didn’t blame her. Hell, she didn’t blame anyone for any of the looks she got. It still hurt. The girl marched past her, wearing a horribly clashing red sweater and tight jeans that hugged her skin like there was nothing there.  
As Ginny opened the door behind her, Pansy finally called out, “Hey. I’m sorry about, y’know, everything. I really am.”  
Ginny froze. Pansy kept talking.  
“It’s not an excuse, but I was young and I thought I had to prove something because my mom was a muggle. I didn’t. I’m sorry. About your arm, about what I did to Longbottom that one time, everything.”  
Ginny turned to look her in the eye. She seemed half surprised, half apprehensive. “Thank you. For apologizing.”  
Ginny turned again and walked away, into the auror’s department. The door swung shut behind her.  
“Well that was possibly the stupidest thing I’ve ever done,” Pansy muttered to herself. She looked at the clock, and realizing the evening shift was about to end, packed up and left. Maybe she’d go get something to drink.  
-  
When they finally got to Pavrok’s, a club in Diagon Alley inexplicably named for its owner’s pet niffler, it was almost midnight. Ginny sent Ron to find a table for them. Meanwhile, she edged in a spot at the crowded bar and flagged down Romilda.  
“Hey Weasley. The usual for you both?”  
“Nah, I’m good today, just Ron’s usual and a butterbeer.”  
The two of them had gotten rather close during their time in DA, and though they rarely spoke anymore, Ginny would count her among the few people in the world she truly trusted.  
Romilda returned shortly with three shots of firewhiskey and a butterbeer. Ginny magicked them into the air and pulled them above her as she wove through the crowded club, searching for Ron. He had gotten them one of the tables nearest the dance floor, and as soon as she set the drinks down on the table he downed one of the firewhiskeys.  
“Bad day at work?” Ginny said. She uncapped the butterbeer and took a sip of it. She and Ron had made a habit of coming to Pavrok’s after work most days to get wasted, but she wasn’t in the mood today. She was still thinking about Pansy, and her apology.  
“Yeah. Fucking Kingsley hired Bitchface McSlut as our secretary. She spent all day in and out of the office.” Ron pinched up his face and put on a high pitched voice, mocking Pansy, “Mr. Weasley, do you want a coffee? Mr. Weasley, Mr. Potter needs the paperwork from your last house search. Mr. Weasley, I shattered your sister’s arm for fun and I’m a sociopath who was hired by the department that’s supposed to lock up people like me.” He picked up another shot, muttering under his breath.  
“She apologized to me.”  
Ron snorted, and then threw the second firewhiskey back. “I wouldn’t make much of it. I bet she was required to.”  
Ginny took another sip, considering the apology. “It seemed pretty unplanned. I think she just felt bad.”  
“That bitch doesn’t feel, let alone feel bad.”  
“Give her a chance,” Ginny frowned, “Romilda poisoned you in sixth year and now she’s one of my best friends, and you’re drinking something she poured.”  
“Hey,” Ron pointed at her, “That was unintentional, y’know. Besides, Romilda is hot. Gains her five automatic forgiveness points.”  
Pansy was hot. She didn’t say that out loud, because Ron would ignore it, and his forgiveness points were bullshit anyway. He would have forgiven Romilda if she had been a mutant troll, after all the girl had done for them. If Pansy was actually sorry, Ron would warm up to Pansy too; he acted like he could hold a grudge forever, but he always gave in.  
She shouldn’t be thinking like this. Pansy had allowed her friends to torment Ginny and all her friends the entirety of sixth year. She had hexed Neville, teased Luna, and added a potion to Romilda’s hair that made her bald. At one point she had even tripped Ginny down a flight of stairs. She had seemed genuinely sorry today though. And she had been one of the few Slytherins to help with the rebuilding of Hogwarts. Ginny knew it was to make sure Slytherin was being represented, to make sure the younger students would still have their house, but still. It was more selfless than hiding out in America or France for a year, or donating to charity as a show, like most of her classmates had done after the Battle of Hogwarts.  
When Ginny went to take another sip of her butterbeer, she found Ron had commandeered it, having finished his third shot. She scowled, pushing herself away from the table to get more drinks.  
“What do you want?”  
Ron glanced towards the dance floor, and his eyes widened. He leaned forward and grabbed her sweater, pulling her in towards him.  
“Don’t look now,” he whispered, “but Parkinson is on the dance floor.”  
Ginny whipped her head around, and saw her. She was dancing up against a tall girl wearing almost nothing. Pansy herself was following this trend- she had on tight spandex shorts and a crop top that was cut so high Ginny could see flashes of her bra. Heat rushed to Ginny’s stomach and she turned away before Pansy could see her.  
“She looks good out of her bitchy secretary dress.” Ron mused to himself, “I’d have hate sex with her.”  
Ginny whacked him on the arm, right where he kept complaining about a bruise from some arrest, eliciting a loud yelp. She pushed out of her chair to get more to drink. By the time she got up to the bar, Romilda was busy mixing something fancy for another patron. She tapped the drink and it issued a cloud of smoke, which formed into an intricate pattern, changing before their eyes. Ginny was so engrossed she hardly noticed someone pushing into the bar beside her, until she heard Pansy speak.  
“Hey. I like your clubbing style.”  
Ginny swung around to see the girl eyeing her sweater, a smirk playing across her still red but now smeared lips. She turned back to the bar, waving at Romilda. She wasn’t here for this.  
“You want me to fix it?”  
Ginny faced Pansy again. Pansy had let her hair down, and at some point recently her shirt had disappeared, what little there was of it. They were pressed up against each other, and as Ginny stood, she could feel another patron shoving behind her, pushing her closer to Pansy. She could feel her heart beating against her chest, half from the thumping music, half from her proximity to Pansy.  
Ginny finally responded, “What do you mean fix it?”  
She didn’t realize what Pansy was doing until she felt the sweater being pulled up over her head. She let Pansy take it and throw it into the crowd. Someone was going to get hit by it, but Ginny didn’t really care. Her stomach and chest were pressed up directly against Pansy’s now, close enough to feel her heartbeat, to feel when she breathed.  
“Better?” Pansy asked.  
Ginny responded by leaning in to kiss her. She pressed onto her lips, pushing for a response, which she received almost instantly. Pansy wrapped her arms around her, pushing one hand up into Ginny’s twisted up hair. The kiss lasted an eternity, or at least until someone’s elbow knocked into Ginny, jerking her away. She came back to reality, to the crowded room, to the pulsing muggle music.  
Pansy leaned forward again, but not to kiss her. She whispered into Ginny’s ear, as quietly as she could still be heard, “Want to go somewhere a little more convenient?”  
Ginny’s heart skipped a beat, and it took all her strength to pull away.  
“I’m here with my brother. I can’t. Really.”  
Pansy gave a little half smile.  
“All right then. See you later, I guess.”


	2. how would you feel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pansy does the right thing and chaos ensues for Ginny.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big thanks again to Ed Sheeran for only making songs about lesbians. Also a big thanks again to myself for writing this instead of the English essay that's due tomorrow.

Ginny tapped her fingers nervously on the table, glancing around to check for Pansy. She had skipped picking Ron up at work that day, choosing instead to go out alone. She wasn’t sure if she wanted another run in with Pansy, but she knew if she did want one, she didn’t want it to happen ten feet from Ron’s office with Pansy in a pencil skirt.   
The music seemed louder than it did usually, like it knew she needed a distraction.   
After about half an hour of people watching, someone tapped her on the shoulder. Ginny half jumped out of her chair, half tried to turn around, and half tried to pretend like she hadn’t noticed anything, a wonderful combination which ended up with her toppling out of the chair and crashing into the person behind her. She looked up from her undignified position on the floor into the sharp eyes of Pansy Parkinson, and her heart skipped a few beats.   
“I like your skirt. I like your panties too, but I’m not certain you intended the whole club to see them.”   
Ginny flushed redder than her hair, pulling her skirt back down as she pushed herself up. Half her hair was stuck in her lipgloss, and in her collapse she had spilled not an insignificant amount of her drink across her shirt. Pansy, on the other hand, hadn’t bothered to change anything about her work attire, with the exception of a couple of undone buttons on her chest showing off a little more than the ministry would probably consider acceptable. She was crisp and clean- sharp eyeliner, perfectly ironed shirt, heels you could hear the click of from a mile away.   
“Sorry, I was waiting for someone and I just…” Ginny trailed off.  
“Don’t apologize. I’ve been waiting for that view since I was sixteen.”  
“When I was sixteen, you tried to kill me.”  
Pansy froze, her composure broken. She opened her mouth, closed it, and opened it again, in a manner mildly reminiscent of Ginny’s coach’s goldfish.   
“Sorry, that was cruel. I just meant-”  
“No, you’re right. I didn’t intend to kill you, but that fall fully could have done it. That’s fair.” Pansy looked oddly halfway between tears and her trademark smirk, like she was trying to shift back into control and couldn’t quite make it. “Can we, talk? Like not here?”  
Ginny paused for a second, and then nodded, holding out her arm. Pansy took it, a hint of reluctance in her eyes. The club whirled away, and in a second they were in Ginny’s flat.   
-  
Ginny moved to the stove, kicking a pair of jeans behind a potted plant as she went. “You wanted to talk?” She tried not to focus on the image of Pansy on her bed. She didn’t have any chairs, and she knew from her mother that you were supposed to invite guests to sit, but now she was regretting her instinct. She flicked on the burner and put the kettle on to distract herself. According to her mother, guests were also supposed to constantly have tea at their disposal.   
“Um. Yeah. I just wanted to like. I mean there’s two things, and one of them is important and I thought you would know what to do. Or Potter or Granger or your brother or one of you. The other isn’t really, like, but I just wanted to ask…” Pansy trailed off, staring at Ginny. She realized she was expected to respond.   
“Oh. Okay. Well, I suppose, the important thing?”  
Pansy nodded, “Well it’s Crabbe. You know they let him stay out of Azkaban in return for turning people in?” Ginny nodded. She hadn’t been pleased by the decision, but it had helped them find a few Death Eaters and sympathizers who had fled before the Battle of Hogwarts. “Yeah, except I think he’s still a Death Eater. He keeps inviting people to these events and I haven’t been going because I hate those kind of things but Blaise went and he said it was all old sympathizers and that after dinner he and some others left to go talk and it was all kind of creepy.”  
Ginny frowned. “This feels like something you should tell the aurors.”  
“Yeah, except my friends were there, and you know, what if they get too… zealous.” Pansy looked down as she spoke, and Ginny could see her cheeks coloring in. “Listen, I know it’d be the right thing to do, but I just didn’t want to tell them. You know Blaise, you know he never did anything to do with the Dark Lord. And Gregory was there too, but he was never more than a kid doing what his dad told him. Just, could you just tell your boyfriend? I trust him.”  
“Harry isn’t my- you trust him? You spent years trying to fucking discredit him and you trust him?”  
The kettle’s whining grew to a keen whistle behind Ginny, breaking off their conversation. She pulled two mugs from her cupboard and put in two bags of Twinnings each. When she turned around, Pansy had straightened up. Her eyes looked a bit red, like she had been trying not to cry, but the rest of her was still impeccable.   
“Black is fine, yeah?” Ginny asked, holding out Pansy’s cup. She felt kind of bad now- Pansy had obviously come to her for a reason.   
Pansy took the mug, and said, “Look, it’s not like that. I mean I trust him not to do anything rash, or anything like that. Some of the older aurors kind of have a kill on sight mentality. I feel like he’d be too… moral for that.”  
“That’s fair. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell.”  
“It’s fine.”  
Pansy drank her tea in big gulps, despite the steam it was still producing. She finished the cup, and set it on Ginny’s nightstand. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to take up your time. I just wanted to let you know about Crabbe, so you could tell Potter. I don’t think he likes me. I can go now.” Pansy stood up, picking up her purse.  
“Wait,” Ginny interrupted before she could disapparate, “What was the other thing you meant to ask me?”  
“It’s not important. Thanks for the tea, Weasley.” Pansy popped out of existence with a smile.  
Ginny leaned back against the stove, suddenly exhausted despite the caffeine. Talking to Pansy had drained every ounce of energy she had. She couldn’t understand the girl; she went from perfectly composed and taunting to downing tea like vodka and revealing Death Eater secrets. Ginny was also about a hundred percent sure that she dressed up for her intentionally, although she had no idea how Pansy would have known she was gay, much less that red lipstick was her fatal flaw. Then again, as sixth year had proven, it was likely that Pansy Parkinson was her fatal flaw.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to read into the title if you're trying to figure out the other thing Pansy was going to ask :)


End file.
